


A Myriad Of Broken Things

by therutherfordwife



Series: The Ailynn Lavellan Series [4]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ailynn Lavellan, Gen, Kirkwall, Maxwell Trevelyan - Freeform, OC Kiss Week, Pre-Inquisition, blind OC, pre-Chantry boom, spy lavellan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:39:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5695114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therutherfordwife/pseuds/therutherfordwife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Ailynn is trying to uncover the source of rising tensions in Kirkwall, a series of unfortunate events drive her straight into the arms of an unlikely hero.</p><p>A fic for OC Kiss Week 2016! :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Myriad Of Broken Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreadwolftakeme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadwolftakeme/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Betrothed, Bothered and Bewildered](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771943) by [dreadwolftakeme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadwolftakeme/pseuds/dreadwolftakeme). 



> Maxwell Trevelyan belongs to dreadwolftakeme here on AO3, check out her fic Betrothed, Bothered and Bewildered because it's seriously one of the greatest things ever.

Ailynn had been walking for hours. She hated this part of a new place, the days and weeks of learning her way around. Especially since her aunt had seen fit to deny her any emergency funds, declaring before the clan that Ailynn was capable and such funds would only be suspicious on a blind elf beggar. There was a point there, she supposed, but while she was certainly capable, she wasn’t a damn miracle worker. She’d already been mistaken for an apostate no less than six times, with her long stick she used to make sure she didn’t walk into anything. Being blind didn’t mean she felt any less ridiculous while walking around with her hands out in front of her, so she’d taken to gently sliding the long shaft along the ground in front of her, striking barriers and allowing her to traverse crowded streets without walking headlong into anything unexpectedly (at least, much less often than usual).

Kirkwall positively buzzed. From the increasing smell of smoke in the air and the boisterousness of the people around her, she guessed that the day was turning to dusk, the workers were heading home or to taverns and the thieves of the city were undoubtedly taking advantage. She needed to get off the streets; thieves and guards alike had little patience for a beggar, especially a blind one. Especially an elf. She turned swiftly, remembering the tavern she had found at the beginning of the week. Her begging from this morning had finally earned her enough for a hot meal, and if the bartender was feeling generous he might even let her sleep in front of the fire. Creators, she was tired.

Her tired feet carried her as quickly as she dared, until the sounds of laughter and song of the tavern drifted to her ears. With a soft sigh of relief, she slipped quietly into the building and made her way around the edge of the main room to the bar.

“Back again, little one? Thought you’d be dead by now.” Corff’s gruff voice cut through the sounds of the room from somewhere in front of her. There was a plunk of a bowl on the bar, followed by a smell of stew. Ailynn grinned.

“Not yet, though your mystery meat might do me in yet.” She fished a few coins out of the pouch tucked into her waistband. “Will this cover dinner?” A strong hand took the coins from her, and there was a grunt before one was slid back into her palm.

“Aye, lass, this’ll get you food for the evening.” There was a pause. “That wasn’t all you got from this last week, was it?” Corff asked gently, keeping his voice from carrying to any of the patrons around them. The bartender had seemingly taken a liking to her the first time she had come in, especially when she’d taken her staff to the head of a particularly handsy patron. She hid her frustration, not wanting to offend the man. Even if it was all her earnings for the week, he didn’t need to know that, and he certainly didn’t need to feel sorry for her. 

So she grinned instead. “I can take care of myself, Corff.” 

He grunted. “Aye, and that’s why you’re beggin’ on the streets.” He grumbled, sliding a second bowl next to the first. “Lemme know if ya need anything, lass. Just knock on the bar.”  
“Wait! There was something I was wondering, actually.” She pulled out the rest of her coins. “Is this enough for me to stay the night? Not in a room, just . . . in a corner? Maybe by the fire?” She fought to keep the exhaustion from her voice. It wasn’t her fault that the Carta had decided to set up a smuggling den in the building she’d just taken to sleeping behind. They had little patience for strays, and she hadn’t the energy to hunt for a new ‘home’ tonight.

Corff took the coins, and she heard several plinks as he counted them on the bar. There was a long pause, and Ailynn shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she waited for his answer.

The pained note in his words told her everything she needed to know. “Lass . . . “ she fought to keep tears from spilling from her eyes. Creators, what was wrong with her? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been in this situation before. She just hadn’t been so gods-cursed tired. She wanted to strangle her aunt for giving her this assignment. ‘Go to Kirkwall,’ she’d said. ‘Listen. Something is going on, something that will affect the world and we must know as much as we can. Everybody ignores a blind elf. Discover as much as you can, then return to us when we camp outside the city again at the end of autumn.’ It was not yet summer, and she’d learned little in her weeks here. There was tension, certainly, and the relations between Templars and mages seemed unusually strained, but little else seemed wrong.

“It’s all right, Corff, I’ll be fine.” She began to take slow mouthfuls of stew, hoping to stave off further conversation. For some reason, the fact that this man seemed to have such a honest care for her well being had her truly in danger of losing control of her tears. She heard him sigh, then his attention was caught by another patron, leaving her blessedly to herself.

At least, for a moment.

“How is it that a creature as gorgeous as yourself is sitting alone in the Hanged Man?” A confident voice accompanied the body that sat itself in the seat next to her. “I’m not courting the wrath of a jealous lover by taking this seat, am I?” She could hear the smile in his voice.

Ailynn groaned internally, carefully keeping her face blank. Of all nights to have to fend off wanton patrons, it had to be the night that she was exhausted nearly out of her mind. She ignored the man, hoping that he would take the hint and praying desperately that she was mistaken, that he hadn’t actually been addressing her.

“Hey, beautiful, would you mind if I bought you a drink?” The hand that grasped her arm was enough to make her want to claw the man’s eyeballs out. She pulled her arm from his grasp.

“No, actually, I’m not really in a drinking mood tonight.” She rapped on the counter, hoping Corff heard and was on his way. If he was out making rounds at the tables, though . . .

“What kind of mood are you in, then?” The man’s voice was husky, his hand wrapping tightly around her wrist and his breath tingling on her ear. She winced away, inadvertently knocking her staff to the ground, heart pounding, trying in vain to wrest her arm from his grasp. Just as she was about to let loose a scream, there was a solid thud of bone on wood, immediately followed by the slackening of the hand holding her. Without hesitation she pushed herself away from the man, breathing heavily and stumbling backwards; inevitably, she tripped over her fallen staff and would have fallen but for a gentle hand on her back. 

“Pardon me, friend, but I hope you don’t mind that I dealt with that lowlife for you? He won’t be bothering you anymore.” The man who now helped her to her feet was tall and gentle as the other man had been rough. But her guard was up now, and her tired body still responded to her urgent demands to prepare for a fight if necessary. She twisted away from his hand, desperate for some space, desperate for a moment when she didn’t have to be on edge. The noise of the tavern seemed to be increasing in intensity, the footsteps of the people around her reverberating through the floorboards and causing her whole legs to feel as if they were shaking and the smokey musk of the lanterns around the room clogged her nose. “Hey, you alright?” He was coming closer, she could feel his steps approaching, hear his voice getting just a tad louder.

“Get away from me!” she snarled, and to her mortification the tears that she’d been trying to hold back all evening finally burst forth. She shoved her hands over her ears, squeezing the sides of her head with her arms in an attempt to block out the world for just a moment. Muffled voices still pierced through her arms, but she refused to move them.

“What in hell did you do to the lass, Maxwell?” Corff demanded, stalking over from the far end of the room. Anger laced his words as he placed himself between the newcomer and Ailynn.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear! That bastard out cold on your bar was getting handsy, not listening to her, so I knocked him cold and then she started to fall and when I tried to help her stand, she just kind of . . . did that.”

There was a moment of silence, probably where the two men were exchanging Significant Glances. Ailynn didn’t care. She just wanted to crawl away and sleep for the next twenty years, forget this night had happened, forget that she was in Kirkwall and her clan was gone, forget that her own Keeper, her aunt, didn’t want her around. She jumped when hands began to coax her hands from her ears, relaxing when she recognized the rough palms of Corff and letting him pull her arms down gently.

“There now, lass, yer fine now. Messere Max here was only tryin’ to help. He’s a good lad, I promise, and I’m sorry if he scared ya. He means well.” His attention was momentarily pulled from her. “Ah, yer goin to have to actually put it in her hand, lad. Here.” Corff guided one of her hands forward, and a handkerchief was dropped into her palm. She took it gratefully, using it to wipe the tears from her face. The pounding in her ears had lessened, and the overwhelming noises and smells of the Hanged Man had receded somewhat. She allowed Corff to guide her to a corner of the room, away from the man now passed out at the bar. “You stay right here now, alright? I’m goin’ to go grab you some more food. Maker knows you need it, yer too skinny and I wouldn’t be surprised if you just cried off ten more pounds.” He patted her hand gently. “Max’ll be here with ya, he’ll make sure yer not disturbed, and I’ll vouch for him bein a gentleman and all.” She nodded blearily and listened to his receding footsteps,

“So . . . is there anything I can do?” Max seemed at a loss for how to help. “I have another handkerchief, if that’ll help. If you need another one, that is. Or you can just keep that one.”

Ailynn shook her head, trying to get her mind to process the last several minutes. “I think I can manage with one.” She took several more deep breaths, urging her body to calm and feeling the ache of exhaustion rear its ugly head. She groaned, trying to rub some of the ache out of her eyes. Honestly, how did her eyes get so tired when they didn’t even do anything? They just sat there. So frustrating.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything? Forgive me, but you don’t look too good.” He actually sounded concerned. She gave a sharp, bitter laugh. 

“Apparently I looked good enough for a half drunk asshole.” Tears threatened again, and she angrily rubbed her eyes in an attempt to convince them not to fall. She didn’t know this man, didn’t know any of these people, and now they all knew her to be fragile when it was of the utmost importance that she be strong. There was a scrape against the table across from her, and then a tentative hand brushed her shoulder. She automatically pulled away from the touch, not wanting to admit to herself how desperately she wanted to be comforted and unsure if this Max was only biding his time with her. There was a moment of hesitation, then she was engulfed in a massive hug.

For a moment she wanted to be angry. But his arms felt so . . . safe. “Andraste’s tits, you didn’t deserve that. And from what I gather, your life is hard enough without idiots like that making things worse.” He pulled back, holding her at arms length. “If you want, I can give you some tricks to use with those daggers of yours.” 

“How did you know about those?”

“Had a hand on your back when you fell, remember? And the fact that you didn’t go for them as a first instinct tells me you aren’t very sure of yourself with them yet.” His hands moved down to clasp her own. “Listen, I’m in town just for the week, but if you want I can give you a hand with those blades. I just have some meetings to go to for business, but morning and evening I’m yours. If you want, that is.”

Was this actually happening? Her mind could barely keep up. No one was this . . . concerned. Not even Corff, for all that he was concerned for her, was able to even let her stay in his tavern without her having to pay more than she had. And now a stranger was offering to train her?

“You can’t be serious.” Surely he would laugh, tell her it was a cruel joke. Surely. 

“I’m deadly serious.” He squeezed her hands.

Creators. But she believed him this time.

The tears that burst forth now were tears of relief. Someone in this gods-forsaken city genuinely cared; someone had noticed her, and not only been concerned, but had been concerned enough to offer her help, apparently without condition or payment. When Max tried to pull away his hands in startlement, she quickly pushed forward and wrapped him in a hug of her own, laughing hysterically. One week. One week of training. She would take it.

Corff returned with food, setting the plate gently in front of her and placing a warm mug of hot chocolate in her hand. She smiled her thanks, hoping that he noticed the expression before he walked away.

“Wait a moment, Corff.” Max nudged her to get her attention away from her food. “Do you have anywhere to stay?” She shook her head, not quite daring to believe what he was about to do. “Right. Corff, would you be so kind as to set up a room for this lovely lady? She’s going to be accompanying me for the rest of the week. Could you also have a warm bath drawn, and in the morning if you would send for that tailor you introduced me to, that would be fabulous.”

“Aye, sir.” There was a clap, Ailynn assumed where Corff slapped Max on the shoulder before the man thumped away.

“I’m assume this is all alright then? You don’t mind staying here after what happened earlier? I can get you set up somewhere else, if you’d like.”

She shook her head, gulping down her mouthful of food before speaking. “This morning I woke up to the Carta sweeping all the ‘undesireables’ out of the block where they’re setting up a new smuggling den. I had no friends, no home, no family to speak of, and no one who I could say even cared about me. I was facing the prospect of finding a new alley to sleep in without catching a knife across my throat and wondering how I was going to eat tomorrow. I’m a blind elf in one of the most dangerous cities in the world, so I couldn’t even count on the prospect of being recruited into a street gang or a Carta den and then when I finally decided to give myself a break and get some hot food for once in a place where I arguably felt safest, I was assaulted by a randy drunkard.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle before continuing. “You’re apparently offering me food, clothes, and a bed, and have asked for nothing. I might be considered a bit selfish for this, but damn right I’ll take it.” Max chuckled beside her.

“I wouldn’t say I’m getting nothing out of it. My father will have an apoplexy when he hears I’m spending ludicrous amounts of time with a Dalish elf, of all things. Since I can’t have him finding out about my boyfriend which certainly explained quite a bit, thought Ailynn), I think this little charade should do well enough to make his attempts to parade me about for the ladies of the Marches fall apart. And let’s just say that I am certainly not above doing everything I can to make that man miserable after everything he’s done.” He rose. “I’m going to go see if that bath is ready. Will you be all right here on your own for a few minutes?” Ailynn nodded, and he gave a satisfied noise and started to walk away before stopping and walking back in earnest. “Say, this has all been rather touching, but I’m afraid my manners utterly escaped me. Would you do me the favor of telling me your name?”

“Ailynn.”

“Ailynn. Well, Ailynn, I shall see to the arrangements. Don’t wander off while I’m gone, alright?”

She contemplated the events of the evening as she finished her food. The weight of relief was comforting around her shoulders, the knowledge that she had somehow been given a week’s reprieve from this hellish assignment causing a warm feeling to suffuse through her very soul. As she finished her meal and began to nurse the last of her hot chocolate, her head started to droop and her energy finally began to give out. When she finally heard Max returning, it was all she could do to merely be pulled along behind him to her room. Her room. Foregoing the bath in favor of sleep, Max gently helped her into bed, tucking her warmly away leaving her with the promise that he would be there in the morning. As she drifted at last into slumber in a bed for the first time in over a month, with a full belly and a new friend, her last memory was of the gentle lips that softly brushed her forehead before the Fade claimed her for the night.

 

One week passed immeasurably quickly, Ailynn taking nothing for granted. By the time it came for Max to leave, she had a job as the tailor’s assistant, a room to herself in the basement of said tailor’s shop, and three new sets of clothes. She’d even managed to befriend a few regulars at the Hanged Man, and if there was anyone who would know what was going on in the city at any given time it was certainly Aveline. When her clan returned, she might just surprise them with all she learned and accomplished. 

When it came time to for Max to leave, Ailynn managed to keep control of her traitorous tears, though the hug she bestowed upon him he swore had broken at least three ribs. He promised to write (which she laughed at) and then more gently promised that he would tell his charming lover and his sister all about her (now that was certainly an interesting situation).

“You’ll be alright now? Promise me you won’t go sleeping in alleys or begging on street corners anymore?” The bustle of the caravan being loaded behind him masked their conversation from prying ears. Ailynn self consciously tugged at the sleeve of her new tunic, one he had sworn was the same color as her vallaslin. 

“I’m sure. Promise you won’t let anything happen to you between here and Minrathous? I’d hate to think how your precious Dorian would react to Rusty carrying you home in anything less than perfect condition.” 

Max gave her arm a soft squeeze. “I’ll be safe. Don’t forget to keep your guard up with those knives, and remember they don’t do you any good in their sheaths. If you think you might need them, grab them. Better paranoid than dead.”

Without warning, Ailynn reached her hands up to Max’s face and pulled him down to plant a kiss on his cheek before wrapping him in another hug. “I’ll miss you, Maxwell Trevelyan. _Thank you._ ” She whispered.

He returned the hug, then tilted her head up and before she knew what he was doing his lips were on hers. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced; soft and impossibly gentle. She hadn’t even known that lips could feel so incredibly warm against her own. He broke away after but a second, laughing at her shocked face. “Thought we’d give my father’s little spies something to gossip about before I left. I just winked at you, by the way, since I’m charming that way.”

“But what about-”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be as amused as my father will be irritated. Besides, that was hardly a kiss, my dear. Was that your first?”

She could feel the blood rushing to her face, and was sure she looking right boiled. “Yes.”

His laughter was infectious, ringing through the small square. “Next time I’m here, I’ll be sure to find you a handsome gentleman to properly corrupt your innocence. Now, however, I must be off.” A hand gently brushed her cheek. “Take care, Ailynn. Be safe.”


End file.
